


Hodnes Laik Kwelnes

by Ofneons



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, i'll probably add trigger warnings along the way but, non-canon non-binary character, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ofneons/pseuds/Ofneons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hogwarts AU, AKA what have we gotten ourselves into? Criticism is highly appreciated.<br/>Co-written with the lovely delphinethequeen, AKA Camila, on tumblr! Send all the love her way!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Osir Laik Yong

Clarke glanced out the window, anxiously picking at the skin of her ring finger, just around her nail. The car had come to a definite stop at King's Cross Station. Leaving the safety of her mother's muggle vehicle wasn't a step Clarke was entirely ready for, but Hiss was screeching disobligingly in its cage and Clarke could feel her mother's heavy gaze on her, burning worrisome holes into Clarke's skin. In hopes of avoiding an overly-sentimental moment, she threw open the car door, exited, and snuck her head and left arm back inside to fish out Hiss's cage. The owl made a pleased sound then shut up, but it did not stop struggling.

Clarke sighed at the animal.  
"What do I have to do to calm you down?" she mumbled, her pinky between the grids to tickle her pet. That seemed to work.

Not far behind Clarke, another eleven-year-old nervous wreck named Wells Jaha was making his way toward her mom’s bright blue car. He carried his rat in the chest pocket of his over-sized yellow shirt, and dragged a large trunk behind him, his brows knitted and an unpleasant tug in his stomach indicating that he too, had a few worries on his mind. The first and foremost being the fact that his father, Thelonious Jaha, was the Headmaster at his new school, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the second being how stupidly pretty Clarke looked. Wells had a little crush on Clarke, but then again so did most people; she just seemed to have that effect on everyone.

He approached Mrs. Griffin first, greeted her with a polite kiss on the cheek and was then enveloped in a friendly hug. She commented on his height “Wells, honey, look at how grown up you are” and his baggage “Make sure to switch arms so you don't tire yourself out” and many other things that Wells spaced out on. Across him, Clarke struggled to quiet her stubborn owl, Hiss. It was possibly the second most headstrong creature he knew: the first being Clarke.

She looked up for a split second and caught his eye, smiling widely. Wells returned the sentiment with a nervous grin and waved at her a little too enthusiastically, but Clarke didn't seem to notice his nerves and ran up to him to give him a big hug. Wells felt his face heating up as Clarke broke the embrace to speak to him.

“How was your summer? And who’s this little guy?” she asked, petting the rat in his pocket. Wells shrugged.

“He hasn’t got a name yet.” Clarke looked up at him then, but continued softly stroking the unnamed rodent’s head. “As for my vacation,” Wells continued, “it was alright.”

In truth, it had been close to a disaster: Thelonious had tried his best to give his son an amazing vacation, but Hogwarts business called too often, and Wells had just ended up learning how to make origami all by himself.

If Clarke had picked up on Wells’s lie then she didn’t show it. She just grinned at him, but that was enough to make Wells forget. “Yours?”

Clarke really perked up at that. “Awesome,” she began, tucking a strand of her behind her ear. “We went on this thing muggles call a road trip. We drove all the way to the other side of the country, all by ourselves, in that tiny car.” Clarke pointed at the blue vehicle. Wells nodded, impressed. It was indeed a tiny car.

“If I were you, kids, I'd hurry up. That is if you still want to find empty seats,” Abby interrupted, wanting the children to get on their way so she could meet up with Callie Hartwig, a Hogwarts teacher and Abby's best friend. Clarke was mostly aware of her mother's intentions but grabbed the handle of her trunk anyway, excited to finally go off to the school she had been hearing of nonstop for the past two years. Wells hesitated.

“Could we just wait for my dad? He said he was coming to say goodbye before we left.”

Abby pressed her lips in a thin line at Wells’s request but nodded anyway. Part of her felt bad for Wells, being treated as second to a school, and many times she had tried to talk some sense into Thelonious, but he kept assuring her over and over, that Hogwarts would never come before his son did, which up to then had not rung true.

Clarke and Wells were engaged in a pumped up discussion about rat names, attempting to find one for Wells's new pet, when suddenly Thelonious Jaha apparated sneakily behind his son and lifted him up in a giant hug.  
 

 

Bellamy Blake fiddled with the corners of his book - “The Troll That Couldn't Walk”- as he admired King's Cross. It was full and fuming; the scent of burning chestnuts filled his nostrils. He had been hearing about the Hogwarts Express ever since he was a little boy, along with his baby sister Octavia. They had heard of the wall they had to cross and the station that read 9 and ¾, about the wizards and witches in a hurry to get to school. Octavia, who held onto Bellamy's hand protectively, her other hand laced to her mother's, wasn't joining Hogwarts’ student population for one more year, and Merlin was she upset. Scratch that: Octavia Blake was angry. She did not like the idea of being separated from her brother for a whole year. That left only her and her mother, and her mother was never as convincing at playing “Monster” as Bellamy.

Mrs. Blake, who carried the luggage cart with Bellamy's snow owl in its cage, didn't appear to be very happy with leaving her son either. Bell's owl, however, did not protest in the least. His name was Hermes, a nod to the Greeks and evidence of Bellamy’s near-obsession with Muggle history, and he was most likely the best-behaved owl to ever exist, courtesy of Octavia's strict training.

The small family came to a stop in front of the wall between the platforms 9 and 10. Mrs. Blake let go of her daughter's hand, but Octavia did not let go of her brother's.

“Who wants to go first?” Mrs. Blake asked. Octavia took a step forward, finally letting go of her brother’s hand. Mrs. Blake chuckled at her daughter’s determination, and nodded her encouragement. “Go right ahead, O.”  
Bellamy stared in absolute awe as his sister ran into the wall and crossed it, disappearing from his sight. He knew what he had to do in theory, but watching it in real life was something amazing.

“Your turn, Bell.”

Bellamy took a few deep breaths, shutting his eyes for a split second before picking up speed and crossing the wall successfully. Unfortunately, he came crashing onto Octavia's back, who had forgotten to move out of her spot after crossing, and both kids ended up on the floor laughing.

“That was awesome!” Bellamy exclaimed, getting up and lifting his sister up right after him. He wiped the dust off his book and smiled at Octavia, who nodded and flashed him a comical, gap-toothed grin. Then, as if possessed by some strange premonition, she took Bellamy's hand and moved him out of the way seconds before their mother went through the wall with the luggage cart. 

Both kids shared a look and a laugh, and Mrs. Blake quirked an eyebrow at them before taking her daughter’s free hand and moving them all toward the Hogwarts Express. As they reached the packed spot where parents said their last goodbyes, Mrs. Blake grabbed Bellamy by the shoulders and pulled him into a fierce hug, kissing his hair repeatedly.

“Oh Bell, promise you'll write every two weeks.” She thought better. “Or every week! As regularly as you can, will you? And stay focused in school.”

Bellamy could have replied, if he wasn’t focusing so hard on trying to breathe.

Finally, Mrs. Blake showed mercy and knelt down to Bellamy’s height, her hands on his shoulders. Bellamy smiled at her, trying to cheer her up.  
“I promise, mom. You look after O.” Mrs. Blake exhaled a sad little chuckle and nodded, bringing her daughter into a side hug.

“Mom I'm going to Hogwarts too,” stated Octavia nonchalantly, as if it were obvious.

“No, O. You stay here with me and next year you can join your brother.”  
Bellamy was trying to hold back laughter as Octavia shook her mom off vehemently, headstrong as she was, lacing her arm around his in protest.

“Octavia Blake, do not make me ground you,” Mrs. Blake threatened, with no intention of actually following through. She pointed a stern finger at her daughter for effect.

“Then Bellamy stays.”  
“Octavia I can't, I have to go.” As Bellamy tried to remove his arm from his sister's grip, it tightened.  
“Nuh-uh. You stay here, with me.”  
“O I must go!”  
“No way Bell!”  
“Octavia free me.”  
“No.”  
“Octavia let your brother go.”  
“I refuse.”  


It was a long argument that did not end there, but Bellamy managed to get on the train before the clock read 11. He sat down in a compartment with two muggle-borns who had no friends either. As he waited for the train to take speed, Bellamy let himself take in the fact that Octavia would no longer be around him 24/7, that his favorite stubborn bestie lived too far for him to wake her up every morning. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so excited about Hogwarts.

  
   
“I can't believe your dad gave us so many sweets,” Clarke whispered ecstatically as she searched for an empty compartment. They walked and walked but every compartment seemed to be full. It was mostly Abby's fault. She had waited until the last minute to say goodbye to her daughter and her best friend, and it backfired: Wells and Clarke found themselves a little troubled to sit down.  
“He's trying to make up for being late,” Wells explained, popping a chocolate frog in his mouth anyway. With his cheeks full he hummed to get Clarke's attention. Wells pointed to the compartment where two other first graders sat by themselves. Clarke walked back to where Wells was standing and quickly peered in, before shrugging a "yeah, why not". Wells swallowed quickly and opened the compartment door, getting the strangers' attention.  


“All the other compartments are full,” Clarke explained quickly to the brunette glaring at her with a curious expression. The boy sitting across from her stared at Clarke too but his expression was unreadable. “Would you mind if we joined you?”

The girl shrugged her shoulders, making her ponytail swing.

“No, it's fine, I guess. I'm Raven,” she greeted, a polite smile on her face now in place of the cautious stare from earlier. Clarke entered the compartment and Wells followed her. “That's Bellamy.”

The boy waved distractedly, returning his attention to the book in his lap. Clarke pursed her lips at him but didn't comment on his disinterest, standoffish as it was. She introduced herself to them both anyway, trying her best to make friends. Wells swallowed another sweet and joined her, extending a hand for Raven to shake. She smiled a little wider at this and took Wells’s hand, giving it a quick shake.

Wells ended up sitting down next to Raven, because she seemed nice and Bellamy hadn't said a word. Thus, with a death glare, Clarke propped down next to Bellamy. Wells smirked sheepishly and offered Clarke a box of jellybeans of all colors and patterns, looking threateningly wizard-y . Raven eyed the sweets cautiously when Clarke offered her one.

“They're Bertie Bott's every flavor beans,” Bellamy explained, looking up from his book. Clarke turned at the sound of his voice and offered him the packet of jellybeans right away. Raven didn't look any less cautious when Bellamy popped one into his mouth and gasped, his tongue out in disgust right away.  
“Gross, rotten egg.” Clarke let out a laugh and took one in her hand as well.

“They are literally every flavor you can imagine,” she explained, smiling once she could taste the banana on her tongue.

“Try one,” Wells added, taking the package from Clarke's extended arm, which had been out for a while and was starting to cramp, and nudging it towards Raven. “I have chocolate in case they're terrible.”

Raven sighed but picked up a jellybean the color of her eyes, a strong brown. It didn't look very pleasant. With her eyes closed and holding her breath, Raven threw it in her mouth, chewing quickly. Bellamy was staring, waiting for the verdict, and Clarke was almost off of her seat just to watch Raven's reaction. Wells just sat there patiently, getting his chocolates ready just in case. Raven opened her eyes and gulped down the bean.

“Beef. It's not half bad.”

  
   
It took approximately 5 minutes for the kids to start talking about their expectations for Hogwarts. Bellamy even shut his book completely. Clarke spoke about how she hoped Hogwarts would be full of freedom and adventures, but Bellamy laughed with an amused “You do know we're going to a school, right?”, to which Raven rolled her eyes. They were halfway through listening to Wells’s detailed description of the teachers his father had commented on during the summer, when a boy with wide eyes and chin-length dark hair unceremoniously opened the compartment door and sat down next to Wells with a sigh. Raven stared him down.

“So…?” she started, leaning over Wells. The boy shook his head no.

“No one from our school, or that we know. I checked twice,” he answered, holding up two fingers for emphasis. He then seemed to notice Raven’s new company for the first time. “Who are all these people?”

The boy smiled at Clarke, ignoring Raven's desperate sigh. Clarke smiled back at him politely. She decided to introduce herself as Raven opened her mouth to answer.

“I'm Clarke, that's Wells.” They grinned.

“Hi, I'm Finn.”

 ~~~~~  


Lexa loved train rides. They gave her time to think, to organize her ideas and finish her books. She had finished “Quidditch Throughout The Times” on the journey to Hogwarts and mostly ignored the people who sat beside her - a bunch of idiots mostly, except for a pretty girl named Costia, who Lexa let herself get distracted with for a little while. Costia had a gorgeous voice and intelligent things to say, unlike the two idiots who sat across from them, who were stuffing their faces with chocolate frogs and jellybeans and making the most barbaric noises as they ate.

As the Hogwarts Express came to a stop, Costia and Lexa stayed behind while the boys Lexa had learned were called Monty and Jasper left immediately.

“Which house do you think those two will get sorted into?” asked Costia, with her nose scrunched up, unimpressed by their behavior.

“I could only guess,” Lexa spoke, feeling a sly smile spreading across her lips. “But I suppose the farthest from Ravenclaw.”

Costia laughed at that as she started exiting the compartment, slinging the small knapsack she had brought with her over her shoulder. Lexa followed suit, book carefully tucked under her arm, her face a little flushed at how pretty Costia’s laugh was. She made a mental note to try to make her laugh more often. Stopping at the door, Costia looked back at her with a wondering expression. “What about you?”

Lexa had thought about this question many times, alone at night in her room and at the dinner table, yet she still wasn’t certain.

“Perhaps Slytherin,” she ventured, looking down at her book. “I would hope to follow the family tradition.” She ended her sentence with a little nod, which caused Costia to smile at her. Lexa made eye contact and shot the question right back, tilting her head a bit to the side. “What about you?”

Costia shrugged and grinned, looking down at her feet, suddenly overcome by shyness.

“I want Ravenclaw, but I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too… pretentious.” Costia seemed to consider her words carefully.

“Nonsense!” smiled Lexa, (awkwardly) nudging her new acquaintance’s shoulder with her own. “It is not pretentious, I'm positive you'd easily fit in.” Lexa truly believed it. Costia blushed.

“You think so?” she whispered. Lexa nodded earnestly.

“Certainly.”

Lexa mostly kept a straight face but Costia could not stop smiling as they walked through the corridor of the train and stopped outside, where the dark sky and glorious stars replaced artificial lighting. It was a relief to Lexa's eyes to see the sky finally open up.

She could only guess what Hogwarts would bring her, but so far, Lexa was enjoying herself.

~~~~~   


 Somewhere along the lines of boat traveling and the groundskeeper shuffling all the new students around, Lexa lost sight of Costia. It made her a bit more nervous to lose the first person she actually liked, and everything about Hogwarts seemed a bit scarier now that she was alone, but whatever happened she knew she could easily spot Costia at the Sorting Ceremony, even if they didn’t sit next to each other. She’d cheer for her when the hat announced her new position in Ravenclaw. Or at least clap.

As the kids entered the Dining Hall, Lexa heard numerous gasps and exclamations at the sight of the open sky and floating candles, at the large tables and elegant décor. Lexa was impressed too, but again, she had heard about all of it, so it wasn’t a surprise. The candles were quite beautiful, though.

As she was studying the ceiling/sky and wondering what kind of charm was used to produce it, a blonde girl with eyes blue like the midday sky stopped to look up right beside her. Although she did not look surprised, the girl certainly had a look of wonder about her, and a sense of quiet satisfaction.  
“So this is the famous Hogwarts,” Lexa heard her whisper, more to herself. Lexa glanced her way and Blue Eyes looked back. Lexa gave her a quick nod, and the girl smiled at her in response. She seemed nice.

“Quite the fashionable dress code,” said Lexa, at the sight of the dark robes all the students wore. She normally wouldn’t be the one to start up a conversation, but something about this girl demanded it. Or better put, welcomed it. Blue Eyes giggled.

“I sort of like the uniforms actually,” she admitted. “Saves me the trouble of caring.” She smoothed down the front of her robe for good measure, and turned to Lexa with a grin. “My name's Clarke.”

Her smile was just as pretty as Costia’s, Lexa saw. She immediately stuck out her hand for Clarke to shake, and let a half-smile get away from her, as well. Maybe this girl could grow to be a friend, too.

“I'm called Lexa. It's a pleasure, Clarke.”

Clarke just nodded because as an 11 year old, Lexa was way too formal.

“A pleasure for me, too, Lexa,” mimicked Clarke, slightly amused by this girl. Not even Wells was that formal and he was a total nerd. With a small smile on her face, both she and Lexa let their hands drop at the same time, and just like that their brief exchange ended. Out of the corner of her eye Clarke caught some first-years beginning to settle down at the table, and Lexa seemed to notice, too. As they were about to go their separate ways, Headmaster Jaha stood up from his big chair at the head of the Hall and the room fell silent.

Slowly, he raised his arms and held them in suspense, until finally he let his voice ring out, and ring out it did.

“Welcome everyone, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy!”


	2. Ai Get Yu In Nau

As the ceremony advanced Clarke became more and more aware of the fact that her house was a permanent decision, one that did not depend on her and that would influence most of the things Clarke decided to do with her life. What if she was sorted into a House she didn't have any friends in? How unfair was that? Being selected and limited to a certain group. Clarke wanted to be able to make friends with everyone. 

Although all this worried her, she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips when a tiny skinny girl sitting before the Great Hall shone with pride as the word “Gryffindor” erupted triumphantly from the Sorting Hat for all to hear. Clarke watched the Gryffindors clap and laugh together as the 11 year old sat at their table, welcoming her to their House with open arms.

“Tigredakru, Lexa,” Jaha called, his eyes searching the crowd for the girl. Clarke looked over her shoulder at Lexa. She looked very serious and composed, like during the talk they had earlier; jaw locked, back ramrod straight. Her eyes were a little cold, too, Clarke observed. Maybe a little empty, which Clarke found intriguing, though she wouldn’t be able to say why if someone were to ask.  
Clarke watched her climb up the steps, more invested in her sorting than any other that night. Lexa marched to the chair and allowed the Hat to be put on her head. As usual, commentary wasn't spared from the animated piece of clothing.

“Oh well, well, well, look who we've got here! Another Tigredakru. Another Slytherin too? Ruthless and powerful, ready to lead. But you were taught that weren't you, little Warrior?” 

The nickname didn't faze Lexa, who kept a straight face. “Ravenclaw is your House.” 

Clarke caught herself letting out a breath as she saw Lexa nod, the tug of a smile on her lips. She descended to the Ravenclaw table, cordially smiling at those who threw congratulatory comments her way. But there were some murmurs coming from the Slytherin table, and one fifth-year had the audacity to boo. Clarke's jaw dropped in indignation but Lexa didn’t seem to care, and she sat down across another first grader boy, before the Dining Hall returned to silence. 

Jaha frowned at the paper in his hands, as if the handwriting wasn't clear, and proceeded to call the name out with hesitance.

“Murphy, John.” 

Clarke was suddenly thrown to the side by the first grader who impetuously pushed through the crowd to get sorted. The second the Sorting Hat touched his head it made its decision. 

“Slytherin it is.” 

John paraded his smirk all the way to the Slytherin table where he received some courteous nods and maybe a couple of handshakes. John sat beside a boy much older than him whom he fist-bumped, and that was the end of that celebration. Clarke frowned. So far, it didn't look like she'd be making many Slytherin friends. 

“Jaha, Wells,” grinned Thelonious, watching as his son stumbled his way onto the chair, having tripped as he left the crowd of eleven year olds. Clarke felt a familiar tug in her stomach. She wanted to get sorted into the same house as Wells, but it wasn't her call to make and Abby had warned her about getting her hopes up. The Sorting Hat appeared to almost physically smile as it was placed on Wells's head. The boy chewed nervously on his lower lip, grasping the sides of the chair in his nervousness. 

“Young Jaha, what a pleasure. Such a kind heart, big soul.”

The Hat seemed to deliberate for a moment, but Clarke already knew what was coming.

“Hufflepuff!” 

Wells smiled widely as he skipped to the Hufflepuff table. He appeared content, and Clarke reassured herself everything was fine, even if they weren't placed in the same house. They’d find a way.

“Griffin, Clarke!” 

Clarke fought back the urge to run away as a hand was placed on her lower back, forcing her to move. One shove sent her out of her seat and into a stumble. Standing in the middle of the corridor she coughed, absently scratched her temple and proceeded to walk to the chair as confidently as she could manage, though after being thrown from her seat she was probably not as convincing as she had hoped. Not to mention her palms were sweating like crazy. She looked around to make sure nobody had noticed and rubbed them quickly on her robe, before she sat down on the small stool and surrendered herself to the Hat’s verdict, whatever it might be. 

“Your name says it all, young Griffin-dor.” 

The Hat laughed at its own joke; Clarke didn't. In fact, it derailed her so much it took several cheers from the Gryffindor table for her to actually realize she had already been sorted. She wasn't in the same House as any of the people she had met so far, but fortunately the skinny girl that had been called first had an available spot by her side. She patted it twice and Clarke took her cue gratefully, offering a smile. The butterflies in her stomach were already dying down, thankfully. Clarke propped down next to her and offered quick 'hi's to the older Gryffindors who cheered her company. 

“Finally another Gryffindor.” The girl sighed, tightening her side braid at its end. “I'm Monroe.” 

Clarke felt a bit more comfortable once the Hall quieted down again. 

“I'm Clarke.” She whispered back. Monroe chuckled. 

“I figured.”

The ceremony was, finally, over - Clarke was starving despite the many beans she had eaten in the train - and Monroe didn't seem any less enthusiastic about the food when she served herself a huge plate of mashed potatoes and an awfully large amount of pizza. The combo was curious, to say the least, and Clarke watched Monroe devotedly adjust her slices of pizza and mounds of mash in a way that could almost be described as artistic. Clarke looked down at her own plate of meat and pasta and wondered how it would look with a little dollop of mashed potatoes on top. 

“The house-elves really outdid themselves!” 

Clarke turned to her left mid-chew to catch Monroe’s wide-eyed expression and bulged out cheeks nod vigorously in appreciation of the magnificent feast they had in front of them. That was the moment Clarke almost choked on her pasta. She started laughing uncontrollably a moment later when Monroe attempted to pile mashed potatoes on one of her pizza slices and stuff the whole thing in her mouth. 

Another girl named Maya had joined their little spot shortly before the ceremony ended, but she ate quietly and didn’t do much except look around the Hall. Clarke assumed she was a muggle-born by the way she glared at practically everything, but just then Clarke caught her squint in Monroe’s direction. 

“Oh, Monroe your hair is in your food!” she gasped, before breaking into giggles. Clarke looked down at Monroe’s plate and sure enough, her braid was steadily integrating itself into the potatoes. Monroe mumbled some thanks and fished it out before diving back in, making Clarke share a quick laugh with Maya and drop some of her pasta in the process. The food was delicious, and she got why Monroe was so in awe, but part of her feared for her health.

“You should take it easy or we won’t have any food left for winter,” joked Clarke, patting the smaller girl’s back. Monroe relaxed and wiped the end of her braid with a napkin, then turned to Clarke with a grin. 

“We'll probably be sharing rooms so I guess I’ll just tell you now; order is definitely not my strong suit.” 

  


_17th of September, Hogwarts_

_Abby,_

_Taking into consideration that you are not an authority in Hogwarts (voluntarily so, may I add, that there was not a lack of invitations from us), I must request that you and Professor Hartwig shut down your ill-considered investigations regarding last week's incident._

_The safety of my students is my concern, and mine only, and I guarantee, Abby, the advances Miss. Hartwig is taking will only cause harm to the student population. If, however, you need reassurance of your child's security, I'll add that the school has been carefully charmed, and the Forbidden Forest patrolled by committed professionals. School grounds end where they are limited, and any young wizard or witch who decides to infringe these boundaries is only responsible of their own actions. I trust you have informed Clarke about following the rules, as I have done with my own son._

_With nothing further to address,_

_The Headmaster_

_Thelonious Jaha_

  


“This is ridiculous,” Clarke complained, propping down at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast, right next to a barely-awake Wells, who slid a glass of pumpkin juice her way as a pre-emptive peace offering. Wells blinked drowsy eyes at Clarke, who was staring daggers at her pumpkin juice, her brows furrowed rather adorably. He woke up a little at the sight of her. 

“What is?” he answered as Clarke gulped down the drink. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and threw a roll of parchment in front of him without a word. Wells wasn’t really into reading this early in the morning but he unrolled the parchment anyway, curious to see what had Clarke fuming. 

_Miss Griffin,_

_The headboard would highly appreciate your respect and obedience regarding school rules such as:_

_Sitting arrangements by House in both meals and classes_

_The Headboard will take into consideration your inexperience with these agreements. As we are aware of the little knowledge those of your age may have on the subject, there will be no consequences for your acts up to this point. However it should be clarified that this is your first official warning._

_Late visits to other House's common rooms are forbidden as well. If you'd like some follow up on the School's rules, our professors will be so kind as to clarify any other existent doubts on this subject,_

_The Headmaster,_

_Thelonious Jaha_

Wells frowned as he came to his father’s signature. This letter was certainly something serious and Clarke was testing the powers that be by sitting next to him. He glanced at her sheepishly. 

“Clarke,” he began, once he had finished blinking away the last remnants of sleep. “You're aware this is the Hufflepuff table?” 

They turned to each other then, Clarke biting her lip a little worriedly. Wells laughed at that, which ironically gave her the confidence to buckle down and get right back into her self-righteous headspace. 

“I will not let your father decide whether or not we can be friends,” she stated, resolutely spreading butter on a flaky croissant. A flaky Hufflepuff croissant. “He only does this because he doesn't like my mom.”

Wells couldn't disagree that the tension between Thelonious and Abby only increased every time he saw them together. It was something visible in their eyes and in the way Abby pursed her lips like Clarke did when she was mad, and Thelonious clenched his fists inside his pockets. He only knew it had to do with Hogwarts; some years ago Abby was offered a position at Hogwarts, but she refused. Yet, Wells couldn't see how that alone could have damaged a relationship so much.

“How can you be so sure?

“Wells,” deadpaned Clarke, nearly rolling her eyes at him. “Just last night you visited my common room.” 

Wells hummed thoughtfully, and nodded; that was true. 

“And look!” Clarke leaned forward and motioned toward the end of the Hufflepuff table, where Raven was showing Finn the face she had cut into her pancake. “Raven’s not a Hufflepuff! And I bet she doesn’t have a letter from your dad,” Clarke huffed.

Alright, now she had a point. Headmaster Jaha had it out for Clarke Griffin, and Wells was unfortunately stuck in the middle. He stared down at the scrambled eggs on his plate, deliberating.

“Okay, so what do we do?” 

Clarke’s grin could’ve lit up the world.

“A petition,” she beamed, blue eyes glinting. 

Clarke explained to him that all they had to do was get enough signatures to force the Headboard to come to a less… restrictive way of putting things. She knew who to get them from and was confident they would help. It sounded like a nice enough idea, but Wells had one problem with it.

“Do you… you know; have enough friends to do this?”

Clarke looked taken aback for a second. "What do you mean?"

Wells resisted the urge to laugh. 

"You know... you're the only one that really needs this petition to work." He tested the air between them to see if Clarke was following, and she seemed to be slipping. Her eyes just kept getting narrower and narrower. Wells revved up his speech. "You've pointed it out yourself, my dad is picking on you." He motioned all around them, at the Slytherins sitting with Ravenclaws and the Ravenclaws gossiping with Gryffindors. "People need to like you if this is going to work."

"People like me," snapped Clarke, forcefully setting down her croissant. Wells quirked an eyebrow at her, wary of what she would do with that butterknife in her hand. Clarke softened when she sensed his reaction. "You like me."

She was right about that. 

"I can't be the only signature, Clarke," Wells murmured. Clarke scoffed good-naturedly.

"You're not, and I know that." She smiled to herself as she looked down at her plate, sighing. Wells watched her, waiting for her plan. She had her scheming face on. 

“You know Jasper and Monty?”

Wells did know them. A Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff who always got in trouble in class for blowing something up or attempting a spell before they had permission to. Monty ended up with green hair once.

“I don't see how they could help,” Wells frowned. Clarke turned to face him, placing her hand on his.

“Jasper and Monty know everyone. And everyone thinks they're hilarious!” Wells furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't find them _that_ funny. 

“If I tell them about this they could easily get me at least 50 signatures.” Clarke grinned at him, imploring his approval. Wells sighed. Two notorious pranksters weren't exactly good publicity, but if that's what they needed to get Clarke a seat at every House's table, he was going to help her. He'd just have to stomach Jasper and Monty's antics for the time being.

"Alright, I'm in. Who do I talk to?"

  


~~~~~~~~

Lexa didn't eat much that morning because flying class, although one of her favourites, got her guts in a mush (which probably had nothing to do with flying and a lot to do with partnering up with Costia every time). She expected the hunger pangs would probably hit her in about an hour, so she hurried outside, her broom in hand – a relatively recent Firebolt 100- as she joined the other first graders.

Two weeks in, Lexa didn't have many friends yet, but she spotted fellow Ravenclaw Raven, engaging in conversation with the blonde Lexa had spoken with only once, during the Sorting Ceremony: Clarke. She carried a parchment in her hand and a quill in the other, which Raven took to scribble something down. Clarke smiled and thanked her, moving on to speak to the next person, a Hufflepuff with a bowl haircut chatting with his Gryffindor friend who wore some... aviator sunglasses, Lexa supposes. Her knowledge of muggle items wasn't all that great yet.

Anyway, Clarke let them scribble on her scroll of parchment, too, and moved on to the next group of students, and the next. It all looked very tedious, having to talk to so many people, but Lexa couldn't say she wasn't at least a little curious. She began preparing herself for Clarke to finally reach her, but Professor Sinclair had other plans. She requested everyone sit down on the grass where they stood, and Lexa obliged, but not before scanning the crowd for Costia who was still nowhere to be seen.

Professor Sinclair started giving out instructions on how to play Quidditch, which Lexa already knew, when Costia tip toed her way into the crowd of students and sat down quietly next to Lexa, her broom tossed down next to her.

“I take it you had a decent nap?” Lexa snorted at the happy Slytherin. She stole a quick glance and saw that Costia had her curls up in a bun again. A cute look that Lexa particularly enjoyed.

“Not only that, I finished that essay on Poisonous Moonshine for Gustus.” Costia smirked.

Lexa had finished the same essay a week earlier, hidden away in the library in a corner by Muggle Literature, so if anyone had the right to smirk it was her. Costia took pride in the way she worked under pressure, though, and Lexa had read and been surprised by how unusually good her last minute assignments usually turned out. But she wasn't about to tell her that.

“Finally.” Lexa chuckled, lacing her fingers together around her knees. “It's due today.”

“Miss Tigredakru, unless you have something to say to the whole class, I suggest you be quiet.” Sinclair snapped at her, forgoing whatever he was saying about Quaffles and their association to various countries of Scandinavia. “Unless you want points taken from Slyth-Ravenclaw.” Sinclair quickly corrected himself, looking a bit annoyed at his mistake. 

Lexa didn't even blink; she was used to being misplaced. 

“Apologies. Force of habit.”

Lexa nodded, and beside her, Costia stifled a giggle, making some comment about too much fire-whiskey for him the previous night.

Sinclair carried on with his convoluted "Introduction to Quidditch" lesson for a solid 15 minutes before he blew his whistle to announce it was time for free flying. The students were off their butts in seconds and half were already hovering on their brooms by the time Lexa got herself off the grass. After mounting her broom she looked down at Costia, who was still just sitting, palms splayed out behind her. 

“We did this yesterday, Costia.” Lexa chuckled, hovering closer to her friend. Costia never made it obvious but Lexa had partnered up with her enough times to know flying really freaked her out. “Once we're out there you'll feel bett-”

“I know.” Costia sighed, gripping the wood and shutting her eyes. “I got this.”

Lexa spared any comments and watched as Costia clumsily hopped on her broom, slowly raising towards the sky and the open fields, so that eventually Lexa had to take off too to catch up with her.

Lexa looked down at her school, at the students steadily shrinking smaller and smaller. It probably meant that she was flying too high up, but she didn't care. She loved the cool air, enjoying the feeling of the wind on her hair and on her cheeks, the soft flapping of her robes, the serenity. Flying was great. So great, Lexa almost forgot about Costia, who was trying to keep up with her.

“Lexa! Lexa wait that side is darker.” Costia warned, trying to fly in closer to the Ravenclaw. Lexa saw in her expression how much she hated not having her feet on the ground. Up here Costia felt like she had no control, as Lexa supposed was the case for many. But ironically, this was where Lexa felt like she had the most. And that made it her responsibility to help her friend. 

She flew over to Costia, whose face shone with immediate relief.

“It's just a cloud,” Lexa laughed, hovering close enough to Costia for their shoulders to touch. “Evaporated water, nothing to fear.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lexa flew with ease and elegance, avoiding all types of obstacles on her way, all while talking to her friend. It was impressive for a first grader, with only two months into training; even knowing that that first grader was raised by Aunt Indra. Anya had never had the chance to meet her aunt properly, or her cousin at all, but years ago her mother had told Anya about how cruel her father's side of the family was. The Tigredakru were not only purebloods, but descendents of some of the most powerful wizards to ever exist.  
Or so Anya was told. The flying first graders came down at Professor Sinclair's whistle, like trained owls. Anya watched as they settled, trying to make out where Lexa sat, quickly spotting her by another Ravenclaw with a smirk on her face, trying to distract Lexa from the Professor's words. Anya recognized her as the one who had yelled at her broom twice when she was coming down. Real genius.

When Professor Sinclair seemed to have finished the lesson, and the kids were getting up and merging in different conversations, Anya took her chance. She saw Lexa heading toward the castle with her friend, coming Anya's way without even knowing it. Anya straightened her robes and pulled her best poker face, receding into a corner so she could trail her cousin undetected. The crowd of students inside the castle almost made her lose Lexa but, thankfully, Anya was tall for her age and spotted the first grader all the way down the corridor. She took off in a small run. Before Lexa decided to turn wherever her friend was taking her, Anya tapped on her shoulder from behind, getting an immediate reaction when Lexa turned around and eyed the fifth grader from head to toe, a small frown on her lips. 

“Lexa, hello.” Anya began, extending her hand toward her clueless cousin. “I'm Anya. I take you it you must have heard about me?” She tried to smile but Lexa didn't seem to know what she was talking about. It was a little frustrating to know her aunt had isolated her so much that Lexa didn't even know about her family. 

Lexa's friend turned around too, finally realizing she was speaking to thin air.

“I was talking to you, rude.” The girl protested, elbowing Lexa. “Who's this?” 

Lexa shrugged, Anya narrowed her eyes.

“I'm Lexa's cousin, Anya.” She greeted again, giving up on the hand Lexa wasn't taking and shoving it in her pocket. Lexa stared at her wild-eyed.  
“You're my cousin?” The Ravenclaw muttered, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Why had no one told her she had a cousin? Next to Lexa, her friend huffed. 

“I see you guys have a lot to sort out.” She chimed “I'll see you later, Lexa.” 

And just like that, she mixed into the crowd and disappeared within seconds. Lexa was left there with Anya, practically alone since everyone else had headed to their classes, or in Lexa's case, to the common rooms to spread the word about the petition (partition? Lexa didn't know the muggle word so well) Raven had told her about. Apparently Clarke had almost reached her goal, less than 20 signatures to go. Costia and Lexa had signed it a week before. 

The girls had grown fonder of each other as time passed, meeting up countless times after classes or during weekends, giving Raven a reason to tease Lexa ('Hey _whipped cream_ , how's the missus?', not that Lexa knew what that meant or why cream would be whipped). That day was no exception. First graders had a free period and Lexa was supposed to head to her common room and meet Costia there, but apparently, her plans had changed.

Anya was much taller than Lexa, and she looked a little threatening, all high cheekbones, hair pulled back and her expression stern. Lexa knew they didn't look the tiniest bit alike. 

“Come with me, we must talk.” Anya murmured, curling her hand around Lexa's fist, guiding her all the way through packed and empty corridors, staircases that moved and peculiar paintings. They reached a place down in the castle that was dark and a little shady, the dungeons, Lexa supposed it was close to the Slytherin's common room. Her guess was proven right. 

Anya mumbled the password (Fog) and soon Lexa found herself in a dark room, covered in green lighting and greenish chairs, dark leather sofas and older students gathered in the corners, conversing or playing wizard games. Lexa understood then why Costia would always insist in meeting her in the Ravenclaw's common room and not Slytherin's. It was creepy. 

They ended up sitting by the fireplace in a leather sofa no one had claimed (oddly so, because it was quite comfortable) and either Lexa was mistaken or there were a lot of glances their way. She was used to gossip, being a Ravenclaw Tigredakru resulted in that, but the amount of people watching her was just ridiculous. 

Lexa didn't exactly enjoy the Slytherin common room, but according to many, it should have been her place all along, a dark room with greenish lamps and a lot of dark corners. She would have met Anya sooner, for sure, maybe even become her friend. Who knew how many other family members Lexa had at Hogwarts? Indra had never mentioned anyone, but it was strange that so many people cared about what she was sorted into.

Across her, Anya tried not to stare at her little cousin, so tiny and defenseless, bright green eyes searching the room, hair partially braided at the back; the work of that Slytherin friend whom Anya always saw with her. Lexa didn't look like anyone in her family, hell, they weren't even the same race, but for some reason Lexa didn't question their blood-ties. 

“Do not mind them, Lexa. They are just curious.” Anya informed, regarding the Slytherins muttering about them in the background. Lexa nodded and shifted her gaze to Anya again, sitting very straight on the opposite side of the sofa. “It's not every day a member of another House visits.” 

Lexa knew why: most Slytherins had a superiority complex because of their notoriety as the pureblood House. It made a great deal of them extremely bothersome to talk to, but luckily Costia was different. 

“Why have you brought me here?” Lexa questioned, knowing Costia was probably looking for her. Anya searched for something in her robes, checking every pocket before finding what she was looking for in one of them. A crumpled up parchment. She handed it to Lexa who accepted it warily, though the curiosity in her eyes was evident. When Lexa’s fingers began to unfold the paper Anya stopped her, grabbing Lexa's hand with her own.

“Read that somewhere safe.” Anya explained, to which Lexa nodded again and shoved the parchment in her pocket. She thought to herself how suspicious that was, but decided not to say anything about it and just cut directly to the subject. Costia would be starting to worry by now. 

“You haven't told me why I'm here yet.” She insisted. 

“I want you to meet me in that location tomorrow at noon, understood?”

Lexa could only frown at the girl's demanding tone. What a snob. Lexa wasn't about to throw away a perfectly fine Saturday for the sake of mysterious talk with her so-called cousin.

“And why would I?” Lexa challenged. Anya chuckled, smirking at her, amused.

“Because you, little cous, are smart.” 

#### Year 2

_14th of February_

_Dear John,_

_Your father would have loved to spend this day with me, but he can't now. I miss him. It's just us little boy, and I hope your day is going great, just wanted to say hello. Aunt Barb sends you a big hug and hopes of a great year too._

_Mum_

_16th of February, Hogwarts_

_Mum,_

_I know he would, I miss him too, mum. The day didn't go as well as it would have if things were different, but you are right, it's just us now, but I am not a little boy. Say hi to aunt Barb for me._

_18th of March_

_John,_

_I am currently in my room and have yet to finish this bottle. Please, tomorrow don't forget to do the dishes, they have been sitting there for ages and I can smell them from here._

_Mum_

_19th of March, Hogwarts_

_Mum,_

_Do your dishes, I can't from where I am now. Don't drink and use floo, Mum. I'm in Hogwarts. I'm sorry you're in pain, but there isn't much I can do. I miss him too. Don't forget your medication if the Healers provided you with any, and try to stay sober. Call aunt Barb and ask her for help. I'm coming home for Summer mum, try until then, for me. Dad would want you to,_

_John._

  


~~~~~~

Clarke strolled down the corridor, heading to the Gryffindor's common room with Raven and Finn, laughing at some nonsense Finn had said. She greeted the Fat Lady, who greeted her back loudly enough for the whole corridor to hear. 

The common room was full and partying. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch game against Slytherin, and what better victory for a Gryff than that? Raven yelled something over the noise, but Clarke couldn't quite make out what exactly. Finn repeated it in her ear. 

“Look there.” He pointed towards a corner of the room where none other than patented Slytherin Bellamy Blake chatted with a first grader with bright blue eyes, whom gestured a whole lot whilst talking, and made Bellamy's smile look genuine. That was a first. “Bellamy Blake, in the Gryffindor common room!” Finn exclaimed.

Clarke was mildly confused. The same Bellamy who had refused to sign her petition for the unification of the Houses, was hanging out in her common room? Maybe that first grader was just a crush of his. Maybe he had lost his mind. Clarke found herself staring when Bellamy accidentally made eye contact with her. He rolled his eyes at her smirk and looked back at the girl, listening to her talk. 

“Who is that?” Clarke shouted over the noise, to Raven, who usually knew everyone casually enough to know their first name. Unfortunately, she shrugged. 

“Why don't you go there and find out?” She suggested, her usual cheeky grin on her lips. Raven passed by Clarke and headed to the table with snacks, eyeing the all-flavoured beans she had come to love. Finn on the other hand, remained right next to Clarke, his eyebrows furrowed.

“That's Octavia.” He told Clarke, gesturing toward the blue eyed girl. “I heard her name in the Sorting Ceremony.” 

~~~~

Clarke quickly forgot about Bellamy once Wells came back to the common room to hang out with them. They ate more sweets than Clarke knew was good for her, surely her stomach would ache the following night, and talked like there was no tomorrow. Like always, conversation drifted to school matters. Wells was excited for the exams, he felt ready, but Clarke would much rather live in the cold dungeons for a month than take an exam on History of Magic. Raven saw it as 'a great chance to test my awesomeness’. Finn grunted. 

As it got darker, other team members and older students started leaving the common room. Clarke let them out and thanked them all for coming. Eventually, only one member of another team, besides her friends, stayed: Bellamy Blake, now sitting by the chess table Clarke and Wells so often used, playing with the same first grader. 

“I'm going there.” Raven announced, making Clarke realize she wasn't the only one staring. Raven had that determined look on her face that meant no one could convince her otherwise, but Finn still tried.

“What for? Leave him be, maybe that crush will make him decent,” he insisted. Although Clarke agreed with Finn, part of her really wanted to know why in Merlin's beard that tiny girl had changed Bellamy's mind about Gryffindors. She decided then that Raven had the right idea.

“Aren't you curious, though?” Clarke laughed, watching as Raven got up, held back by the wrist by Finn, whose brows were etched in worry. 

“Come on Finn, I‘ll be polite.” She promised, tweaking her expression from steely to wide-eyed and docile. Clarke grinned, finding it endearing. Finn, however, had known Raven much for longer and wasn’t as susceptible to her non-magical charms. After a quick stare-down Finn won out, and Raven had no choice but to plant herself on the couch again and sulk.

~~~~~~~

“I'm pretty sure that's cheating,” Bellamy chuckled as his sister's pawn moved three spaces instead of two, landing on a dangerous place for his own pawn. Octavia smirked cheekily, enjoying her dirty victory. 

“The pieces aren't protesting.” 

To say that Bellamy was content was an understatement. Sure, Octavia was a cheeky cheating bastard, but she was also at Hogwarts, with him, playing wizard chess. What else could Bellamy have asked for? Her being a Gryffindor was inconvenient, especially with Clarke Griffin looking over at him a hundred times a minute, but O didn't seem to notice and thus, he couldn’t be bothered to care either. 

Back home their games were very restricted. Mrs. Blake controlled what they could and could not do, always with a forced smile, one that the kids had grown to despise and see through. One would think that the second they saw freedom, chess would be put aside. 

Well, old habits die hard. At Hogwarts, there was no mum, and, like she had told Bellamy: _“Your sister, your responsibility”._

And Octavia had no problems with that. 

~~~~~~

The sun hid behind dense clouds, causing the Gryffindor common room to fill with candle light, golden contrasting with the red of Gryffindor, and the shimmering presence of the hot fire in the fireplace, indicating that it was more than time for dinner at the Great Hall. 

Clarke stayed behind as the others went on to eat, her eyes wandering to Bellamy and the first grader once again. Bellamy looked happy like she had never seen him before.

She waited for Jasper to finish his homework with Wells by her side like a trained puppy. It fazed the whole group that Monroe hadn’t come down from her room all day, and Clarke planned on swinging by it before heading to the Great Hall. She figured Monroe was not feeling very well, but there wasn’t much that could stop Monroe from enjoying a feast, tummy-ache and all. 

“You guys head on to the Great Hall,” Clarke spoke, pushing herself up from the couch. “I'll be right down.” 

Jasper nodded swiftly, stuffing his parchment and quill into a pocket of his robes – which would obviously end poorly, but Monty could probably solve that later – and dragged an upset Wells up and out of the common room with him. 

They were a charismatic pair: the walking mess and the most orderly boy Clarke knew strolling down to the Great Hall shoulder to shoulder. It wouldn’t be long until they started bickering about something, probably. As she thought this, Clarke felt a gentle tug on her robes, from behind. She turned around to find Bellamy and the girl, Octavia, staring at her. He was frowning deeply, with a look that could probably kill a couple Muggles; she was smirking, entertained.

“Bellamy?” Clarke tried to check her tone, hoping the amusement would pass as simple curiosity.

“Clarke.” He coughed out. Octavia elbowed him and nodded towards Clarke, murmuring a pretty obvious 'Come on now'. “Octavia wanted me to apologize-”

“No, you wanted to,” she corrected.

Bellamy rolled his eyes, his arms tensing at his sides. By this point Clarke was struggling not to laugh at Octavia's control over Bellamy.

He sighed.

“I came to apologize for not signing your petition.” Bellamy spoke. Clarke nodded politely at Bellamy, but her lips were pressed in a thin line to keep any and all laughter from ruining the moment. Now Octavia rolled her eyes from where she stood, a full head shorter than him. 

“And…?” She prompted. 

“For being rude.”

Clarke wasn't one for making people suffer, but she wasn’t one for passing up a good opportunity either. And when it happened to be exemplary Slytherin Bellamy Blake the one in question… 

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” 

Octavia snickered, looking at Clarke with a new light in her eyes, and Clarke wasn't hiding her grin any more. Bellamy was alone in his discomfort. 

“I'm sorry for being rude to you.” He spoke, louder that time. Clarke nodded, satisfied. Lesson in humility accomplished. 

“I accept your apology, but if you'll excuse me, I have to head to the girls' dorms.” Clarke excused herself, spinning on her heel and leaving a discontent Bellamy behind. She heard heavy steps behind her, and Clarke turned to see the girl, Octavia, sprinting to catch up with her. 

“Hold up, Clarke!” 

Clarke stopped, effectively, and waited for Octavia to step up beside her. “I'm going there too. Thought I'd join you.” She smiled. “If that's fine with you.”

“Of course.” Clarke smiled back, more out of etiquette, since she really didn't know Octavia, though she seemed nice. “Thanks for that.” Clarke chuckled, referring to Bellamy's apology. Octavia shrugged.

“Bell's kind of a jerk, but if you work your way around that, he's pretty neat.” The younger explains, the smile never leaving her lips. 

“Are you two… dating?” 

Octavia laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, throwing her head back and gripping her shoulders. Clarke stared, a little uncomfortable at being laughed at, but mostly just wanting in on the joke. What had she said?

“Sister.” Octavia smirked, coming down from her fit. “Octavia Blake at your service.” 

Her cheeky, easy-going attitude, was very different from her brother's, but Clarke surely didn't mind. 

“Clarke Griffin.” She smiled, offering her left hand, that Octavia shook in a heartbeat, always flashing that messy toothed smile at her. What a bundle of joy. “So, how are you liking your classes so far?”

Octavia scrunched up her nose, shaking her head.

“Some are pretty boring.” She admitted. “But I want to learn potions so I can turn Bell into a girl for a week.”

Yeah, Clarke definitely liked Octavia Blake.

~~~~~~

There were many rules in Hogwarts, but none had ever messed with Monroe's head like the gender restrictions in the dorms. She (they? They) had been told, in simple language, that only girls were allowed in the girls' dorms. Boys could not get in. Did that mean that whomever was not a boy could get in? Or that only girls could? In the brain of any other Hogwarts student, those questions could have been considered irrelevant. Either you're a boy or a girl, and so far Monroe hadn't met anyone that disagreed with those terms. That, until they started questioning, until the pronoun 'she' and titles such as 'daughter' or 'miss' felt forced. Once, in potions class, Gustus had called out 'Miss Skai' enough times to make the whole class turn to him, but Monroe didn't even budge. 

It got worse when that friend of Clarke's, Raven, met up with them to help them study History of magic, in the library, and somehow ended up providing them with a muggle book on gender and sexuality. Muggles felt an excessive need of labeling everything, as a half-blood, Monroe was aware of it, but for some reason, a few of the labels on that book with colors too bright and teenagers too smiley, felt a little more right, more familiar, than 'girl'. 

That whole mess brought them to that day. Monroe skipped all of their classes, and even the Quidditch game – which wasn't a great choice since they wanted to apply for the position of seeker the following year – out of fear they wouldn't be able to get back inside their dorm. It was a little irrational, since they'd always been, well, in the middle, and the dorms had never kicked them out, but what if them realizing it was the last straw? 

Their stomach growled. _Identity Crisis 101 with Margret Dunn_ was shut and thrown under Monroe's pillow as the door creaked open, revealing a sympathetic looking Clarke. All Monroe could think about was the book, as if it were burning into their skin, searing from under the pillow, as if their mistakes would dissolve their flesh until all that was left was a soul. Not a soul of a boy, nor of a girl. Just Monroe's soul. 

Clarke must have noticed the reluctance to speak on Monroe's face. She approached the bed with a sigh, propping down on its end. 

“Hey.” Monroe mumbled out. Clarke chuckled at their awkwardness.

“Hey.” If she thought Monroe was sick, Clarke didn't seem to care for it very much. She sat cross legged at the bottom of the bed, a little too close to Monroe still. “Are you feeling well? You haven't come down all day.”

The words 'I'm afraid I won't be able to come back up' didn't come out of Monroe's mouth. Instead a fake cough did.

“Just a little under the weather.” They sat up straighter, as Clarke's eyes were wandering to their awkward position, lying on their side, supported on their elbowes with their legs at an awkward angle. Monroe made sure to sit on their pillow though. 

“I could steal a couple of oranges and maybe a sandwich for you, if you want.” 

Clarke's offer was sweet, and Monroe was hungry. A little contraband wouldn't hurt anyone. They nodded. Clarke gave a brief laugh. 

Moments like those made Monroe see they had true friends. Hell, they knew the trouble that was getting things past the fat lady and Peeves, but Clarke was brave and all kinds of determined, a true Gryffindor in simpler words. Monroe was more like a laid back Gryff with a little Puff in them. It wasn't necessarily bad, just a little less respected within their House.

They should be courageous like Clarke, facing their problems with balled fists and a clear mind, but instead, there was a book under their butt. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” Clarke insisted, tentatively reaching out and resting her hand Monroe's ankle, warming the spot. Monroe probably fried their brain deciding whether or not to tell Clarke about their 'issue'. She would get it, and Monroe was supposed to be brave enough to at least come out to their closest friends. But what if she didn't get it? Monroe would lose a friend, possibly be outed and neglected, questioned multiple times by close minded purebloods. Not that Monroe was afraid of the pure-bloods, hell: a Gryffindor isn't scared. 

“I'm fine.” They sat breathing in and out deeply. “I'll join you for dinner.”

The dorms let them back in that night. But for how long would they?

#### Year 3

“Again.” Anya shouted through gritted teeth, arms crossed, standing in the corner of the Room of Requirement, shaped to look large and lined with mattresses on both the walls and the floor, ready for Lexa to fight. Lexa took a deep breath; letting the images of her brother and her mother at the muggle county fairy invade her, memories of laughter and joy, a carrousel and bright yellow lights. Lexa shut her eyes. Her wand was pointed at thin air.

“Expectro Patronum!” 

Lexa opened her eyes only to be met with a thin blue line escaping her wand, fading quickly in the air. A complete failure. Anya sighed, frustrated.

“It's not working.” Lexa complained, breathing in and out again, preparing herself to cast the spell once more. Anya rushed to her and lowered her wand with her index finger, shaking her head slowly. 

“No use in tiring yourself out.” She gave up “Your memory is just not good enough. Saturday, same time.” 

They packed their things in silence and left the room with a quick, awkward hug. Anya went in one direction, towards her common room, Lexa ran to the library, where she hoped to find Costia. She felt a little frustrated, given that that was the first spell that took her over two weeks and still seemed to be going nowhere. 

She spotted Costia propped down against a bookcase, sitting cross legged on the floor, reading their Arithmancy manual with a concentrated squint. 

“Hello, Costia.” The dark skinned girl looked up, a grin immediately formed on her lips. 

“Hey honey.” She snickered, stretching her legs before patting her lap, inviting Lexa to sit. And Lexa did, her back to Costia's front. “How was Anya?”

“Broody.” Lexa complained, gaining an entertained laugh from Costia, hands drifted from where they rested on Lexa's lap to the girl's hair.

“That's rich of you to say,” Costia chuckled. Lexa huffed.

“I am not broody.”

Costia pulled on one of Lexa's intricate braids.

“Shush and let me fix your hair. Seriously Lexa, do you have to ruin it every time you're with Anya? So much effort thrown down the bin.” 

And just like that Lexa forgot about the spell she couldn't cast, instead concentrating on the gentle pull of her hair and whispered tone of Costia's words. Maybe Raven was right, maybe Lexa _was_ whipped. Or whipped ‘cream’ or whatever she had said. If it meant happy, Lexa was it. 


	3. Year 3

Year 3

Like every other Thursday, third year students who chose the class of Care for Magical Creatures, gathered in Hogwarts grounds, just near the old cabin which was said to belong to a former Grounds Keeper, a tall scary one for that matter, but as a result of the years, got transformed into a broom closet. A tall and scary one, as well. 

Against it leant Clarke Griffin, in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and robeless due to the heat and possible damages to the uniform when in contact with magical creatures. The weather was oddly pleasant for a morning of September, and Clarke almost felt pity for those who had not chosen Care for Magical Creatures, locked away in the castle, restricted to a desk. 

She wasn't the only one of her friends who had signed up for the class. So had Wells, who had picked Care for Magical Creatures for the sake of a break; Finn, who really just wanted an excuse not to choose Arithmancy, like Raven had implored him to; Raven, who also took the two hardest classes, Arithmancy and Runes, and a bunch of other after school voluntary ones; Monty and Jasper who were hoping they would get to ride one or two beasts. It wasn't completely silly of them, it wouldn't be the first time something alike happened in Hogwarts. Although Clarke had called their daydreams nonsense, part of her wondered what riding on a hippogriff felt like. There was a poster of one in her living room back at home, and she had always found the creature beautiful. 

Professor Kane waited in silence for the kids to gather around, a small smile on his lips as the students circled around him, their books tugged under their arms to keep the paper beasts from biting anyone. He wasn't a real Care for Magical Creatures professor, but Mrs. Day wasn't all too good at keeping up with the feeding of the school's pets, and so she had to leave for a month of two, due to an unfortunate incident with a hungry baby troll. Why Headmaster Jaha had approved of a baby troll in Hogwarts grounds was beyond Clarke, and everyone else, for that matter. 

“Well, good morning, everyone.” Kane greeted, clasping his hands together for emphasis, his eyes wondering to the only kid – a Hufflepuff - who kept chatting despite the silence. That quieted him down. “I see your weekend has burst your energy, let's put that to use, shall we?” 

Kane brought two fingers of his right hand to his mouth, a high-toned whistle resonating in the empty air. At the sound, heavy golden wings flapped in front of the sun, in circling motions (the creature seemed to have appeared from nowhere), with a stout landing, the it sunk its claws in the grass, far enough from the kids that it felt safe, hiding behind Kane. 

“Holy Jesus.” Monty gasped, practically disappearing behind Clarke's back, who was too distracted staring at the creature to care. The beast glared at them with small sharp eyes, its head was very like an eagle's, but at least three of four times the size. Not that that scared Clarke, she was more worried about the claws that gripped and squeezed and scratched. What could a beak do, really? Poke? 

“Is that a _griffin_? Holy hell.” 

“Hey now, Monty. Clarke doesn't bite.” Raven responded, earning more than a few eye rolls and sighs, with only a sincere laugh from Jasper. Usually Monty would have had appreciated Raven's terrible puns, but he was just too nervous. “I mean an actual griffin. Half eagle, half lion, fully threatening.” 

“Are you scared?” Clarke teased, the fear had faded quickly because the beast appeared quite calm despite being observed by so many eyes, which made it look less dangerous, perhaps even… pretty? It was definitely not an ugly animal, all golden and red and elegant, tall and fierce, if Clarke were to be an animal, she wouldn't mind being a Griffin. Which was cool, because she was a Griffin. At least in name. 

Monty huffed and straightened his shirt, making way from between his friends and back to the front row to prove his comfort with the beast's presence. 

“I'm fine.” 

Kane whistled again, this time to get the class's attention. It worked, as the kids immediately went silent and allowed him to proceed with the class. 

“As some of you may know, this majestic creature we have here,” Kane walked in the animal's direction, stopping at a respectful distance to narrow his torso towards the creature. “is called a griffin.” The beast lowered its head too, making eye contact with Professor Kane whilst doing so. Kane then turned around to smirk at the group of anxious 13 year olds and continued pacing closer to the griffin, eventually getting close enough to rest his hand at the creature's side, petting it there. “Part eagle, part lion, the griffin has its origins in ancient Greece, and although many wizards use these fantastic beasts to protect valuable objects, today we are going to learn how to earn the respect of one.” 

Kane was one of Clarke's favourite professors, he never assigned too much homework and his classes were mostly interesting and entertaining, either involving weird screechy plants, or giant eagle headed lions. She had even considered studying Herbology, but the parts of Clarke who wanted to study medicine, or art, or even Quidditch, were ten times stronger than the one part that thought carnivore plants were cute. 

The class proceeded calmly. The Griffin, whom Kane had named Charlotte, served only for the purpose of demonstrations, and eyed Wells's rat, Rook, hungrily. The tiny animal had eventually disappeared inside his owner's pocket and remained there for the rest of the class. Charlotte didn't look so pleased with the fact, but not once did she get out of her spot. 

Wells, however, was extremely protective of his pet rat and kept taking Rook out of his pocket every ten minutes and whispering a _'does he look alright to you?_ ' to Clarke, who mouthed back some affirmation of Rook's healthy appearance. 20 minutes before class ended, Clarke and Wells were sitting side by side on the grass, petting Rook despite its protesting, class long forgotten. 

“He's all grown up now.” Wells smirked. Clarke nodded. 

“So are we.” Clarke shifted so she could face Wells, whose expression instantly softened the moment their eyes met. Clarke shifted her gaze to Rook, self-conscious. Or more accurately, conscious of how Wells had been doing that melt-y look more and more unabashedly as time went on. He probably doesn’t even notice. 

“I'm really bummed out Octavia doesn't get to join us Saturday.” Clarke pouted, giving Rook one last scratch behind the ear before stretching her arms out behind her and leaning back, shooting Wells a sad glance. She was referring to the trip scheduled to Hogsmeade, which anyone under Year 3 wasn't allowed to go on, and Merlin had Octavia been mad when Bellamy refused to search for hidden passages to Hogsmeade in the castle with her. 

Neither of them added how they felt about Finn not being able to participate either, but Clarke knew this was one thing best left unspoken. The mutual understanding that Finn was not to be mentioned anywhere near a ten foot radius of Raven had practically evolved into a shared line of telepathy; even Jasper knew that that one certain look meant “shut up, no exceptions”. Clarke was very grateful for that. 

Wells nodded briefly, cradling Rook in his hands. Clarke watched him put the rat back in the pocket of his shirt, worrying his bottom lip for a second before shifting his attention from the little animal to Clarke almost immediately. 

“About… Hogsmeade,” He started, maintaining tentative eye contact and clearing his throat once. “Everyone's arranged, um, encounters at the Three Broomsticks.” 

“Encounters?” Clarke smirked. 

If Wells could noticeably blush Clarke would probably be staring at rosy cheeks right now. “Well, you know,” he stammered, resting his hand on the back of his neck. “Meetings. Get-togethers.” Clarke smiled, cocking her to the side. Nervous Wells was very entertaining. 

“Raven's going with some person I don’t know, Lexa and Costia together, I hear Bellamy asked Echo out and Jasper and Monty didn't really seem too keen on letting me tag along, despite the fact they insisted countless times that they were just hanging out and eating sweets-”

“Wells. Please get to the point.” Clarke laughed. Wells nodded. 

“Do you want to come with me?” 

Clarke grinned, sliding up straight. “Of course!” She kept her eyes on Wells, rubbing off some of the grass that had stuck itself to her hands, her posture relaxed. 

Wells beamed at her. “You're my best friend, after all.” 

Perhaps his face dropped a little at the word “friend”, but Clarke decided to ignore it. Or at least push it back to where she could avoid feeling terrible about it. There was nothing more unfair than false hope, and all Clarke could do was be honest and trust this was only a silly, temporary crush on Wells’s part.

~~~~~

Wells had to admit the word “friend” had been a blow, but the point was that now he and Clarke could finally be alone. An occasion alike hadn't come up in what felt like years; maybe in Hogsmeade he could finally take the big step and tell her he _fancied_ her. Wells knew he had competition; the sooner he told her the better. 

~~~~~

Christmas arrived sooner than anticipated. Probably because Raven hadn’t been paying attention to anything. 

Raven didn't believe in Santa Claus or any other gift-bearing character ready to lighten up her holiday and make life better, but she still waited up by the fireplace for something to happen. Raven tried her best to ignore the melancholic feeling that the decorations brought with them, the watering of her eyes at the thought that she would never again go back home for Christmas, not without Finn, whose mother baked cookies in the shape of ginger men and pine trees frosted with white sugar-powder that ended up everywhere in the kitchen and on Raven's clothes, Finn's hair, his breath when he laughed too. 

The tears that threatened to spill out eventually did, and Raven found herself pathetically alone, at 3am on the last day of school, wrapped in magically knitted blankets and a sweater that was Finn's, wishing she had somewhere to go once classes ended. She had thought more than once about asking Clarke if she could stay at her house for a while. Abby had insisted in the summer, and back then Raven's parents and Clarke both had been happy to have her there, but ever since Finn, Raven hadn't been around Clarke as much. Clarke reminded Raven of their first trip on the Hogwarts Express and of strange candy, of spontaneous snow fights and studying in the library the day before tests. Most of all Clarke brought her back to Finn. 

Raven fell asleep on the sofa in the Common Room, with her arms wrapped around her own torso and sweat-slick fingers curled onto themselves. At ten minutes past 4am, with the moon’s reflected shine adorning the edge of the Ravenclaw’s Common Room, Lexa shuffled in past the door, casting glances all around the room in case someone had decided to get up and study like last time and she’d have to do some blackmailing again to avoid a scandal. Instead, she only found a small shape nestled into the couch, and stepped closer when she realized it was Raven. 

Lexa knew better than to ask what was wrong, having just seen Raven jolt awake in the midst of her sleep with wetness spread on her cheeks and air tousled, having just seen Raven when not even Raven wished she had seen herself, sobbing quietly into her pillow, figuring everyone had fallen asleep. Lexa knew better, thus, all she did was sit awkwardly across from her friend (friend?), staring into round chestnut eyes, red and puffy, shimmering with the remains of tears Raven hadn’t bothered to wipe. Raven snorted, looked away from Lexa and to the fireplace. 

“Don't look at me like that.” She dead-panned, shifting to hug her knees. 

Lexa frowned. “I am short-sighted and the dark doesn’t help.” She delivered her reply honestly, but there was something Raven found funny about it, the hint of a smile appearing on her lips. At the sight, Lexa relaxed a bit and allowed herself to settle more comfortably into the cushions. “Do you wish to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Okay.” 

Raven wasn't speaking, strangely so because that girl could ramble off her tongue and still have commentary to add, and soon Lexa was having trouble deciding whether or not she should say something or if they were having some sort of silent bonding session that no one had informed her about. Finally, Lexa grew the courage to say something. 

“Will you be staying in Hogwarts for the Holidays?” 

Raven seemed surprised by the other girl's words, clearly not expecting her to be the one starting conversation, but she did not back away from it, shrugging and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Raven sighed. “I suppose. And you?” 

Lexa studied her roommate’s face, the flames illuminating her features. Raven looked more put together with her tears dried and hair fixed, but still reminded Lexa of that one girl in her Astronomy who ugly cried whenever she was tired (which became rather annoying after the 4th class starting at midnight). 

“There isn't anywhere I'd rather spend Christmas.” Lexa shrugged, feeling the yucky weight of sleepiness on her eyelids. Raven had to be exhausted as well, it being almost 4:30 am. 

“And Costia?” 

“She'll be flying to Finland,” Lexa replied absently, picking at a stray hair on her robe. Before looking at whatever cheeky face Raven was making she decided to change the subject. 

“I hear Clarke Griffin will be staying, you are friends, are you not?” 

Lexa waited for an answer, watching Raven devote her attention to the crackling fire again. 

Raven didn’t really say much after that. 

~~~~~

After a warm butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, Wells took Clarke to a more empty part of the town, where everything was covered in crisp white snow, undisturbed except for the few footprints of a dog. They sat on a rock after Wells brushed it free of snow, and for a brief period of time, Clarke felt like she desperately had to get out of there before Wells did something he would regret. Like kissing her. 

To break the silence, Clarke spoke. 

“That friend of Raven's, Lexa, she's cool.” She tried to play it off like an organic topic of conversation, but ended up chuckling awkwardly once she caught sight of Wells’s confused expression. 

“…I guess,” he murmured, kicking at a mound of snow next to his boot. “It's good for Raven, making new friends.” 

Clarke nodded in spite of knowing that Lexa had been Raven's roommate from day one, and that they were not really “new friends”. She didn’t know what to say, how to have kept the conversation flowing, and it was profoundly annoying her. What came out of her mouth next was most likely the most ridiculous thing she's ever said, but for the sake of fluidity in their conversation, she said it anyway. 

“Do you find her good-looking?” Clarke restrained herself from adding an 'I do' at the end. Hurting Wells's feelings was not her goal. 

“Not as much as you.” 

“Oh, I think she's really good-looking.” Plan A --not hurting Wells-- was out of the question now. Clarke's brain felt like it was being pushed to extremes as she attempted to find an escape. “But thanks.” 

Suddenly there was a hand on her knee and a bright smile on Wells's lips, surprisingly confident. 

“It's just the truth, Clarke,” He admitted, looking down at his hand on her knee, then moving it up to rest on top of Clarke's. Part of her brain screamed “Get out!”, the other went “It's Wells, how bad can it be? Just go with it.” 

However, before Clarke had the time to process what was happening, Wells looked at her in the eye with his expression as serious as Clarke had ever seen it, leaned in and rapidly dropped a chaste kiss on her lips, leaving them wet and tingly. Clarke decided approximately half a second after that that was definitely not what she wanted, and it broke her heart to have to steal away the smile from Wells. 

“I'm sorry Wells.” She whispered, removing her hand from underneath his, looking down at the snow and kicking her feet to keep herself distracted. “I don't fancy you like that.” 

~~~~~~

Monroe sighed as they acknowledged the horrific result of their failed 'reparo'. The definitively ripped, now blue, parchment wasn't a fixed parchment. Beside them, Raven shrugged and took a significant bite of her apple. 

“Tha's enough fo' a P.” Raven attempted to say through a mouthful of fruit. 

Monroe shook their head in embarrassment. They needed an A to pass charms, and they were determined to get one, even if it meant studying themself to death. At Monroe's other side, Clarke was sketching something in her notebook, surely another last minute attempt at success in 'Muggle Arts'. The difference was that Clarke could expect an O for outstanding, and Monroe could at best hope for an A for Acceptable. 

As Monroe pondered what their possibilities of suddenly executing the spell perfectly were, Monty Green propped down next to them on the Gryffindor’s breakfast table, dropped his textbooks for the day on the surface with a loud ' _thump_ ' and proceeded to sigh contentedly. 

Monroe had to glance. 

“Good morning guys.” He smiled. Even as stressed as anyone else with the exams, Monroe found that he managed to preserve a genuine smile, and it made their stomach feel all weird. 

They chuckled back a “What's good about it?” 

“Cake, 'Roe, cake!” Monty responded, serving himself a generous slice of chocolate cake, and taking one for Monroe as well, despite them never asking for it. Regardless, Monroe was a fan of food, and Monty was aware of it. They staked the baked good with their fork and immediately shoved it in their mouth. Monty was quick to follow. When they both finished their cake, Clarke was half-way through her clumsy masterpiece and Raven still worked on devouring some sausages, neither paying attention to their friends. Monroe would have deemed them rude if they too weren't on the verge of ignoring the world and freezing time, so that they could practice an idiotic Reparo over and over. 

They returned to the task of practising when Monty apparently decided he was bored with eating. 

“Are you nervous about today?” Monty questioned, eyeing the blue, still torn, parchment that Monroe failed to transform back into health. 

Monroe felt it was an unnecessary question, as they certainly looked like a ghost from the lack of sleep. 

“On the verge of quitting wizardry and moving to The Bermuda Triangle, but it's nothing new.” Monty laughed and Monroe congratulated themself internally for the well-played sarcasm. “If you'd like help, I've mastered the Reparo charm, the trick is to flick your wrist _before_ you say the words.” 

Although Monroe highly doubted the solution to their problem was as easy as Monty made them believe to be, an exploratory attempt settled it, as the blue parchment finally repaired itself, the evident crack in the middle having disappeared. Monroe couldn't prevent the radiant laugh that they let escape as the weight on their shoulders lifted as if by magic. 

They turned to Monty who presented an equally satisfied smirk and grabbed his shoulder with their hand in a thankful gesture. “You just saved my ass Monty.” Monroe sighed in relief, fake-wiping their forehead with their hand. “Thanks so much.” 

Monty shrugged, his cheeks tinting red. He opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by a loud cough. The Dining Hall silenced as Headmaster Jaha glared at the students from his high chair. The disappointed look on his face let Monroe know what was to come was not some congratulatory speech for some Professor's birthday or student body conquest. 

“Good morning, pupils.” Jaha started, ignoring the many eyes on him and looking directly at the floor. “It has come to my attention that spells have been cast in places they should not have been. More specifically, the girl's dormitory. As of today, boys who have been freely joining girls' dormitories will not be let inside them again. We have yet to find the delinquent who performed this charm, but fear not, he or she whom casted the spell has three days to confess before Mr. Kane and I start a thorough investigation.” 

Jaha continued his speech about responsibility and respect, but all Monroe could think about was how screwed they were. If such spell had been cast, perhaps that was the only reason they were able to enter the girls' dormitories, and if so was true, they could only guess what terrible things would happen that night when inevitably, Monre went to pick up their Astronomy book. The preoccupation must have shown in their face, as Monty immediately noticed it and mouthed a _'You feeling okay?_ '. 

~~~~

That night Monroe did indeed fall on their butt, and so did Clarke and Maya, when the staircase truckled beneath their feet. Many tears and an explanation later, Monroe fell asleep camped up by the staircase, with Raven and Clarke and Maya beside them, curled into the sheets they had pulled from their beds. 

The floor was severely uncomfortable, but the new found trust in their friends warmed them enough to get through the night. 


End file.
